


A Raven's Vow of Vengeance

by BattleScarredRaven



Series: Tales of the Guardians [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattleScarredRaven/pseuds/BattleScarredRaven
Summary: Dallas-13 watched Cayde-6 die. She took up his cloak and hunted his killer until he was no more.Now there are rumours of his return, and the battle-scarred Exo Hunter won't rest until her vengeance is complete.For good this time.
Relationships: Cayde-6 & Female Guardian (Destiny), Female Guardian & Mithrax, Female Guardian & Original Fallen | Eliksni Character(s), Female Guardian & Petra Venj, Female Guardian/Female Guardian (Destiny)
Series: Tales of the Guardians [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846441
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. The Messenger

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to start by clarifying that my Guardian, Dallas-13, is not the Young Wolf, who does exist as a separate character in my stories rather like how the lore in the game alludes to them (though never describes them in any great detail). However, she has done a few things normally attributed to the Young Wolf, such as avenge Cayde-6, and was one of many Guardians who partook in the Red War.
> 
> Another thing to note is that this work, this chapter and the next in particular, contains a lot of Eliksni and broken English. Feel free to ask for clarifications if needed.

**_“They say Exos don’t feel; that we’re just tireless war machines. But they’re wrong. We think, we feel, have wishes, regrets. Our electrons sing our joy and scream our vengeance. And we bleed and we die, just the same as everyone else.”_ ** _\- Dallas-13._

* * *

_It had been a long time since Dallas-13 had felt any sense of purpose. Things hadn’t been the same for the Exo Hunter since the Red War. Since the Prison of Elders. Since Cayde…_

_She shook her head. Exos seldom stopped, barely slept, couldn’t cry. Had she been human, Dallas doubted she would still be able to do any of those things, regardless. But she still grieved the fallen Hunter Vanguard, still felt the pain of being unable to save him, still felt anger even though she had killed his killer._

_Or so she had thought._

_During the course of her trying to revive the Foxtrots into something they once were and finding old blood as well as new to join her cause, a ghost from the past had turned up. First as a story, then in person. They’d called him Meta as an insult when he’d left, for daring to change his path. But in secret communications, he had been known as Foxtrot 24, and when they had gone out in fireteams, they had called him Maine. Very few people knew his true name, and that of his Ghost. Dallas was one such person, and it had been the first thing that had left her mouth when the Titan and his flaming Ghost had confronted her one night atop the ruins of the old Tower._

_“Do not ever say that name out loud.” It was the Ghost who admonished Dallas, its mismatched, flaming shell twisting this way and that in anger._

_“But it is your name.” Hunter addressed Titan, even though it was his Ghost that had spoken. Dallas knew it had been a long time since the other Exo had spoken though, and knew he preferred to conversate through his Ghost._

_The Titan grunted in response; his companion translated: “No. You gave us our new name when you insulted us out of the City. The least you could do is use it now.”_

_“We were… I was wrong.” Dallas shook her head. “You didn’t want the pressures of this life, the restrictions of being in the City. I should have respected you and Sigmund more for that, not insulted you both for what I thought was a betrayal at the time.”_

_“We didn’t come here for your apologies, Thirteen.” The Ghost growled at her angrily, and the Hunter knew by instinct that it was how Sig really felt, not a translation. Her suspicions were confirmed when Meta gently batted his companion with a reprimanding hand._

_She sighed, pulling down her hood and removing the beak-like portion of her helmet, allowing both it and the rest of her helmet to transmat away into nothingness. Her battle-scarred face met the other Guardian’s gaze, clearly exhausted despite the fact the Hunter was an Exo. Her single remaining optic regarded Meta and Sigmund carefully._

_“What did you come for, exactly?” Dallas asked, trying not to sound too sharp with her questioning. She wanted answers, not another argument. Light knew that they had wasted enough time here already._

_Something passed between Titan and Ghost. Whatever it was, Dallas was not privy to it. But eventually, Sigmund spoke again. “We ran into an old friend of yours. She had a message to pass onto you.”_

_She? The scuffed brow plate above Dallas' damaged optic raised a little in curiosity. She didn’t have many friends these days, less so those that were female. At least, none she closely associated with since the end of the Red War. Who could want her at a time like this, and why? Whatever it was, there was no doubt it was for something important._

_“What was the message?” Dallas asked, interested._

_Meta shook his head._

_“She didn’t say.” Sigmund translated. “She just passed on some data to us and said it was important that you got it. Here, I’ll play you the data recording she left…”_

_A hologram of a twice docked Fallen Captain projected in front of the Ghost’s optic, leaning heavily on a staff gripped in her four, mismatched, prosthetic hands. Her two left eyes glowed blue, peering out between the gap in her ether-mask and the top of her helmet. Her right two eyes were covered over with some kind of implant. Dallas' right eye flared brighter in recognition of this battle-scarred individual._

_“Phantom…” The Hunter Exo breathed the name out in surprise. “Play the message.”_

_The hologram began to move immediately as the recording played before them. “Hunt… Taraas, old friend. Not hear from in long time. Not matter. Have message for you. Can’t discuss, not know who has ears here. Meet at old Eliksni den near Farm where first made loyal to you. Also, would warn: watch for Crows. Eyes and ears everywhere, Taraas. Be watchful.”_

_The message ended, both in the past and the present. Dallas clenched her fists._

_“I put two bullets in him.” She growled angrily under her breath. “One in his chest with Petra, and another in that bastard’s head to make certain. There’s no way… he CAN’T be alive!”_

_“Who says he is?” A Hunter, watching Phantom’s message alongside her in the present, questioned her. His grey and gold hood hid most of his facial features, but the lack of glowing eyes gave him away as human. “You and Petra watched him die.”_

_“Who else could it be, David?” Dallas rounded on the other Hunter suddenly. “Phantom mentioned Crows. Who else do we know that has that title?!”_

_A Warlock’s calming hand fell on her shoulder briefly, causing the enraged Hunter to visibly relax instantly. It’s owner, an Awoken woman, spoke softly. “What would you have us do?”_

_Dallas cast her gaze to the ground, optics blinking shut for a moment. When they opened again, she looked up, determined. “If Sov lives… we find him. And I finish what was started. For good this time.”_

_David dipped his hooded head respectfully. “I’ll put the call out. See if anyone knows anything.”_

_The other Hunter turned, disappearing out of the dark room the three were standing in. His footsteps echoed as he descended down the ruins of the old Tower. Dallas' single working eye followed him until he disappeared, before she motioned towards a tarp-covered desk._

_“I should probably help oversee that.” The Warlock stated quietly, though made no motion to move other than to watch her leader’s movements keenly with electric green eyes that glowed in typical Awoken fashion. “You know where to find us if you need us.”_

_The Hunter made no attempt to answer her, opting instead to hang her head. To her Warlock companion, she seemed almost tired. Defeated, even. But the Awoken Guardian liked to think she knew her leader better than that as she watched the Exo’s fingers lightly dance across the surface of the tarp, tugging at the material to remove it from the table. Underneath lay an all-too-familiar Hunter’s cloak._

_“Dallas…?”_

_“Don’t.”_

_Hunter cut off Warlock, voice filled with an emotion that even the latter could not name, unfastening her cloak from around her neck and back. She kept hold of the quiver that adorned it, letting the cloak itself fall to the ground. With art of long practice, Dallas donned the other cloak, fastening it to her leather outer jacket by its various clasps and tying its scarf around her neck. She fastened her quiver back onto her new cloak afterwards, wiggling it this way and that to ensure it wasn’t in any danger of falling off._

_“You really mean to finish this then?” She felt the Warlock’s hand on her shoulder again, gentler this time._

_“Hunters don’t don another’s cloak if they don’t mean to finish their partner’s business, Ysabeau.” Dallas reminded the Awoken, inclining her head back slightly towards her. “If that bastard lives… Cayde’s business with him isn’t done.”_

_“You say that like you think I will stop you.” Ysabeau observed quietly. “I’m not going to. I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone in this.”_

_“I know. And I appreciate what you’re all doing for me.”_

_Dallas rolled the Warlock’s hand from her shoulder. But as she tried to move away, she was surprised when the other woman’s hand grabbed her own. She thought about pulling back more, but knew all too well that Ysabeau’s small frame concealed the fact that the Warlock was as strong as any Titan, and could easily yank her back if she wanted. So, the Hunter wisely turned to face her companion._

_“I’m not talking about everyone else. I’m talking about me.” A look of apologetic regret etched Ysabeau’s features as she spoke, surprising Dallas somewhat. “I wasn’t there when the Prison of Elders fell, and I wasn’t there to help you get your revenge for Cayde the first time around. So when you find Sov… if you need someone to come with you…”_

_Dallas shook her head, averting her gaze. “I couldn’t ask that of you, Iz.”_

_“You’re not asking.” The Awoken’s free hand moved to cup the Exo’s battle scarred cheek. “I’m offering.”_

_Dallas leaned into Ysabeau’s hand gratefully. “I appreciate the offer. But I think I’ll be fine.”_

_“Not sure I would be. But if you ever change your mind…” The Warlock pressed a soft, delicate kiss to the Hunter’s metal forehead, before pulling back completely to a more respectable distance. “What will you do now?”_

_“Meet with Phantom. Confirm her information. Then, we hunt.”_


	2. The Phantom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend wishes to meet Dallas-13. In her quest for vengeance and information, she obliges.
> 
> Things go from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in the previous chapter's notes, lots of Eliksni and broken English here. Feel free to ask for more in depth clarifications.
> 
> Minor clarifications:
> 
> \- Taraas is how Siraax pronounces Dallas. Mithrax can speak English a little better, so he pronounces it correctly, just more drawn out.  
> \- Matriaasks is what Siraax calls Mattias-37/Meta, aka the Titan Dallas-13 was conversing with at the beginning of the last chapter.  
> \- Siraax is a former Lightbearer. Personally, I headcanon the Eliksni did have them, but they were rare, and all but wiped out when the Traveler left them, mainly due to the fact that they were (wrongly) blamed for its disappearance. Those that survived don't have their Ghosts any more, nor their connection to the Light (though they are ridiculously long lived, with some as old/older than Variks).  
> \- Much like Mithrax is a transliteration/corruption/mispronunciation of Misraasks, Siraax is the same of her actual name, Ciraasks.
> 
> That aside, I hope you all enjoy :D

**_“Walk under Dusk because forget what was to walk under Light. Whirlwind wipe all stories away. Fallen think Scatter because Light-Forsaken. Great Machine become Lightmonger, not forsake, and still protect mind-open. Must end heart-hatred old, fight for Great Machine together, or perish. Light only way forward now. Banish Dusk-shadows forever.”_ ** _ \- Siraax, the Phantom. _

* * *

_ It had been a while since Siraax had visited this old Eliksni den. It had once been a major House of Dusk hideout, until a fireteam had cleared it out. Now it was something akin to a cross between Spider’s lair and… what was the human term? Watering hole? No, a bar. A very shady bar. But the humans and Eliksni that gathered here now did not fight each other, save for the occasional business deal that had gone sour. Anything beyond that, and the offenders were quick to be ejected, either by the bar’s owner or, more often, one of its many patrons. _

_ It was noticeably more packed than usual, and Siraax had to gently push her way through the crowd in order to take up her usual corner seat to wait for her companion, using her staff to put some space between herself and everyone else as she moved. The noise and the heat were almost unbearable, and she hoped she did not have to wait for long. _

_ “Can I get you anything?” The barman - a machine-human or ‘Exo’ as the other humans called them - on duty tonight almost caught her off guard. He stared at her as he polished a glass with his cloth, though it was hard to tell because he had no visible eyes. “Plenty of strong Eliksni liquor in stock today.” _

_ “Nama.” Siraax rasped, shaking her head. “Drink mind-cloud. Need mind-clear.” _

_ The barman chuckled. “Oh, meetin’ someone are you? Someone important?” _

_ “Eia. Lightmonger.” The Eliksni offered as an explanation. “She comes soon.” _

_ “Guardian, huh? Don’t get many of ‘em here these days. I’ll keep an eye out for you. Send ‘er your way if I see ‘er.” _

_ He left her alone after that, something Siraax was grateful for. It was bad enough the noise from everyone else in this place was making her head hurt. She didn’t need the added burden of trying to concentrate on a conversation on top of that. _

_ Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a Hunter finally strode into the hideout, catching more than just Siraax’s attention, she noticed. Even the noise seemed to die down a little as she walked in. It was not clear immediately why until Siraax noticed the cloak she was wearing; not her usual black flowing cape with glowing red constellations and horned hood, but an all-too-familiar black cloak with red decorations and a beige neck-tie. _

_ Siraax wasn’t too well versed in the ways of the human Lightmongers as she ought to be, but she knew more than most of her kin. And one of the things she knew about Hunters was this: if one took the cloak of another who had fallen, that meant that Hunter sought to finish their fallen comrade’s business, whatever that might be. Which, to Siraax, meant only one thing: the Hunter was expecting the worst from what she had to say. _

_ The Eliksni eyed her quarry as she approached the bar and ordered a drink. She wasn’t helmeted, but her face was still hidden from Siraax due to her hood. The Hunter downed her drink in one, before the barman serving her - the one who had spoken to Siraax before - gestured the Eliksni’s way. As the Hunter approached, Siraax rose, offering her companion the traditional Elksni armistice bow in greeting. _

_ “Taraas, old friend.” She addressed the Hunter respectfully as she rose from her bow, leaning heavily on her staff. “Long time since speak! Thought you Light-forsake and perish!” _

_ “That’ll be the day, Phantom.” The Hunter half-chuckled, half-scoffed at her in reply. “Heard you ran into Mattias recently.” _

_ “Eia. See Matriaasks on Shore.” Siraax nodded. “In Spider-lair. Give message. You get it, yes?” _

_ “Why else would I be here?” The Hunter shrugged, before throwing up her arms. “I swear, if this is some kind of joke…” _

_ “Not joke! Not lie with you, Taraas.” The Eliksni grabbed the Hunter with one of her free arms. “Loyal-promise. Never lie, not on this!” _

_ “I know.” Her companion pulled away slightly, before patting her once on the shoulder of one of her upper arms. “I was messing with you.” _

_ Siraax cocked her head to the side in confusion. “Messing with…?” Her head shook shortly after. “Not matter. Must listen, but not here! Too many ears. Too many eyes. Not know who hear, nor intentions. Have room upstairs. No eyes, no ears. Friend waits there for us.” _

_ The Hunter nodded at her, a single glowing green eye regarding Siraax carefully from under her hood. “Lead the way.” _

_ Siraax let out a hiss through her ether mask, the Eliksni equivalent of what the humans called a sigh before shifting awkwardly, ambling through the crowd once again. The former Dusk Captain did not pause to see whether her companion was following her or not as she ambled towards a set of winding stairs that lead up to several private rooms. It was the one furthest from the stairs that was Siraax’s objective. _

_ “After you, Taraas.” She gestured with one of her upper arms, prosthetic temporarily seizing up mid-gesture. She would need to replace them soon. “Make sure no-one follow us. Hear us.” _

_ The Hunter entered ahead of her without a word. Siraax gave a long glance around, double checking the coast was clear, before following in behind. Her four prosthetic hands, in spite of their condition, made short work of locking the door so no-one else could get in. _

_ “Okay, so what’s this about, Phantom?” The Hunter pulled down her hood at last, revealing her battle-scarred, red and flesh coloured machine-face. _

_ “Sit.” Siraax told her, gesturing off-handedly with her lower right arm as she got the last lock, avoiding the question entirely. _

_ “Not until I know what I’m dealing with here.”  _

_ Her companion was getting agitated, Siraax could tell. Even without her voice, the Eliksni could feel the Hunter’s footsteps drumming up through the metal prosthetics of her right leg and the staff she was leaning on. _

_ “Become clear soon. Taraas, please.” _

_ “Don’t ‘Taraas, please’ me!” The Hunter threw her hands up in the air in frustration, rattling the Ahamkara bones on her left arm slightly. “I deserve some straight answers after you dragged me all the way out here with some damn cryptic message. Light so help me…!” _

_ “Dal-las! Enough.” _

_ The Hunter whirled around with a start, coming face to face with another Eliksni who slowly rose to his feet in the back corner of the room. As he came fully into view, her mouth fell open a little in surprise and her good eye brightened as if in recognition. _

_ “Mithrax?” She addressed him, dipping her head respectfully. “Shit, if I’d known it was you Phantom had hiding up here…” _

_ “Misraakskel, you know Taraas?" Siraax chittered the question rapidly in Eliksni. _

_ “Eia. No Eliksni-secrets.” The Kell of the House of Light answered her in broken human tongue, though slightly more fluent than Siraax herself could speak it. “All friends here, Ciraasks. We meet on Titan. Dal-las show mercy. Reason why I made Light-House, and Dusk-House forsaken.” _

_ “I see.” She answered Mithrax with a dip of her head, before turning to their companion. “Not-meant disrespect. Make things easier, yes?” _

_ Dallas seemed to accept Siraax’s apology and finally sat down. “I guess so. Telling me what’s going on would also make things easier too, y’know?” _

_ The two Eliksni joined her in sitting, but it was Mithrax who spoke. “Would not ask Ciraasks to bring you here if not important, Dal-las. Know this. Like warn with Devils. Know you went to Shore. Know you kill Fikrul, Barons… Uldren…” _

_ Dallas slammed her fist down on the table they were at, rattling everything in the room with her Light-enhanced strength. “Don’t you dare say that name out loud within earshot of me, Mithrax. I gave that bastard the death he deserved. Nobody needs to bring up his name again, ever.” _

_ “Not dead, Taraas.” Siraax gripped the Hunter’s fist lightly. “See with own eyes.” _

_ “That’s impossible!” Dallas threw the hand off her and shot to her feet again in a rage. She looked like she might flip the table and hurl it across the room at any moment, her companions be damned. “Petra and I both shot him! I even shot him again to make certain! Fuck, Dias even confirmed it! Petra told me the Awoken took him back to the Dreaming City for a funeral and everything! Didn’t think the bastard deserved it after what he did, and she agreed, but he was still a Prince. Still the Queen’s brother...” _

_ “Know this, Taraas!” Siraax tugged her back down with both her left arms. “Thought impossible too, thought loyal-friend never tell lie! But saw him. Spoke with him to be certain.” _

_ “You SPOKE with him?” Dallas' good eye brightened in disbelief. “How the hell did this happen, Phantom? Did… did that bastard Fikrul actually find a way to bring him back? But I thought he could only reanimate dead Fallen…” _

_ “Eia.” Mithrax pitched in. “Not Scorn-work. Converse with other Lightmongers, sent Vandal scouts out, even ask Spider. Nothing. Until this.” _

_ The Kell slid a knife across the table, all too familiar. Without prompting, a black and red gyroscope looking Ghost materialised near Dallas in a soft shower of Light. He hovered near the blade, scanning it quickly for a moment. _

_ “That’s definitely a Hunter’s knife.” He confirmed after finishing his scan. “Every Hunter fashions their own set of knives for melee combat, throwing, even scaling difficult terrain. They each have their differences, enough to tell who their owner is if you know them well enough, but they all follow the same basic design that’s different from the average civilian hunting knife.” _

_ “Are you… implying what I think you’re implying?” Dallas' question was barely a whisper. _

_ “Lightmonger, Taraas.” Siraax confirmed the Hunter’s worst fears. “Call himself ‘Crow’ now.” _

_ “I don’t care what the hell he calls himself!” The Hunter was on her feet again and pacing around the room furiously. “As long as he’s alive, I have unfinished business.” _

_ She drew a black and white hand cannon decorated with playing card symbols from the holster on her right thigh, twirling it this way and that on her index finger as she paced. Kell and Captain both stood in alarm, but only the latter was brave enough to cautiously approach the agitated Hunter. _

_ “Taraas. You say only machine-humans remember before-life.” Siraax gently reminded Dallas, picking her words carefully, which was hard enough when language wasn’t an issue. “Same for Eliksni before Whirlwind. Before Scatter. Not remember my before-life. Not know who-past I before I. Light wipe all stories away. Sov gone, for all intents-purpose. Dead.” _

_ “No. CAYDE is dead. That murdering bastard doesn’t deserve the title of Guardian, whether he can remember why or not.” _

_ A hissing sigh escaped Siraax’s rebreathers as she admitted defeat. There seemed to be no talking down Dallas. But as she was about to give up, Mithrax stepped forward. _

_ “All of us heart-heavy for Cayde’s death, but killing murderer forever-over is not answer.” The Kell of Light shook his head, his glowing eyes hooded slightly with sadness. “Will not bring him back.” _

_ Dallas stopped pacing, bracing herself heavily against a wall with a raised arm. “I know, Mithrax. I know Cayde’s gone, and nothing anybody does will ever bring him back. But… I can’t just let his killer walk around out there, getting a second chance without repercussion. Where the hell is the justice in that? No other Guardian would ever let it stand if they knew. And that’s why I have to do this.” _

_ “Killed many, Dal-las.” Mithrax pointed out to her. “You show mercy. Lightmonger accept Light-House. Accept not all Eliksni Fallen. Not stop, know better to try to stop Lightmonger. You, of all. Ask you consider what Ciraasks and I speak. This is all.” _

_ The Hunter pushed herself off the wall with a sigh, holstering her weapon once more. “He showed no remorse for his actions, Mithrax. You could have killed me when I spared you on Titan, but you didn’t, and you’ve continued to build on that and atone.” _

_ “Perhaps Great Machine give Light so he could atone. Lighmonger penance? Everything have reason.” Siraax reasoned. _

_ But Dallas wasn’t buying it. _

_ “Whatever the Traveler’s reasons, they don’t matter. I’ve made my decision. I’m going to the Reef to see what Petra knows, then I’m going to put that bastard Sov down. For good.” _

_ Both Eliksni looked at each other. Mithrax held out a hand to the Hunter, who took it after a moment. _

_ “House-Light stand-always ready with you, Dal-las. Glad to walk hardship-path alongside, if you need.” _


	3. The Regent-Commander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Raven goes to see what a Regent-Commander knows about a certain 'Crow'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else interpret... I think it was the Prodigal Helmet's lore as potentially talking about a resurrected Uldren? I mean, I suppose it could be referencing him returning back from being missing from that whole mess with Oryx too, but that's how I saw it initially, so I'm just going to run with it.
> 
> Plus, Crow makes a great Guardian name for Uldren. Just saying.

**_“_ ** **_**I** f he’s alive out there somewhere, then he’s the Awoken’s responsibility to kill.”_ **

**_“Then you and your people best get in line, Regent-Commander.”_ **

\- Petra Venj and Dallas-13.

* * *

_Petra Venj didn’t much like Guardians._

_It wasn’t a hatred exactly, at least not anymore, but rather a distrust these days. Plus, she’d always found them too soft for her liking, hiding behind their walls in their Last City that she had once been forced to live in. Not like the Awoken who lived out on the frontier and bore the brunt of shattered Houses, Hive incursions and Taken curses daily. She respected them as warriors, but that was normally as far as it went, with a few exceptions._

_And one of those exceptions was standing in front of her right now, in the form of a one-eyed Exo Hunter. A battle-scarred veteran of war, much like herself._

_“I must admit, Guardian, I wasn’t expecting to see you again.” The acting Regent-Commander addressed her guest formally, but not without warmth. A Corsair handed her a datapad as she spoke, which her lone eye was quick to read over. “Not since…”_

_“Regent-Commander.” The Exo inclined her head respectfully towards the Awoken leader, before dispensing with all formalities and launching straight into business. “Petra. What do you know about an individual called ‘Crow’?”_

_Few things surprised the Regent-Commander these days, but Petra couldn’t help but snap to attention from the datapad she was looking at, her uncovered eye slightly wide in shock. “Where did you hear that name?”_

_“So you do know of him, then?”_

_“I…” Petra gritted her teeth slightly in frustration, at herself mainly for allowing the Hunter to catch her off guard. Mara would’ve never allowed such a thing to happen, but she didn’t have the Queen’s capacity for leadership and artful manipulation. “They’ve been a person of interest on our radar for a while. But with everything going on in the Reef and the Dreaming City, I’ve not been able to give them the attention they deserve.”_

_“You don’t know anything then?” The Exo tilted her head to one side questioningly._

_“Unfortunately not, Dallas.” Petra admitted reluctantly. “I only know that they became a player in the Reef after our dealings with the Scorned Barons. It almost seemed like a mockery to everything the Sovs once stood for, taking a name like that. But… where did you hear about it? Crow’s existence isn’t exactly public knowledge.”_

_“I have my sources.” Dallas answered Petra, cryptic and impossible to read, even for an Exo. “Reliable sources.”_

_“Why the interest?”_

_“I recently acquired some information on him that I thought you might be interested in.” The Exo woman divulged. “Information on his identity.”_

_Petra leaned in closer, dropping the datapad on a nearby workbench, forgotten. She was definitely interested. “You have my attention.”_

_The Exo didn’t say anything, but instead drew a familiar black and white hand cannon: the Ace of Spades. Perta knew Cayde’s signature weapon from anywhere. She glanced back up at Dallas again, half-expecting her to say something, but was met only with silence. It was then she noticed that as well as bearing the late Hunter Vanguard’s weapon, the other woman’s back was adorned with his cloak._

_The dots connected rather abruptly, and Petra felt her heart stop, then start again. “Uldren…?”_

_The Hunter simply nodded her head once._

_“That doesn’t make any sense. We killed him. Your Ghost even scanned him to make sure.” The Regent-Commander recalled, trying not to talk too loudly for fear of her Corsairs overhearing. Uldren being alive wasn’t news she wanted her people knowing about, at least not yet. “You’re sure?”_

_“My source spoke to him directly. He was risen as a Guardian.”_

_Well. That was… Petra shook her head, swearing under her breath._

_“Your Traveler does have a flair for the ironic, doesn’t it?” She quipped, not knowing what else to say. “Resurrecting a Guardian killer into the very thing he hated. But… if it's true… if he’s alive out there somewhere, then he’s the Awoken’s responsibility to kill. MY responsibility.”_

_“Then you and your people better get in line, Regent-Commander.” Dallas advised her darkly. “Because I have an arrow, two bullets and a blade with his name on it.”_

_Petra chuckled, but there was little humour behind it. “Make that three bullets. Just like old times, Dallas. I’ll dig up Crow’s old files. See if we can’t track him down.”_

_“I’ll be back when you do.” The Exo promised, and Petra knew somehow that she would keep her word. “If I don’t find him first.”_


	4. The Sanctum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallas-13 takes a moment to relax before diving back into her quest for vengeance. Her closest Warlock friend helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter the Mature warning is for, so if you don't like a little bit of Exo nudity, best go back now. Otherwise, enjoy!
> 
> Also, this chapter was pretty much inspired by, and is a literal interpretation of, the lore for the Shattered Warlock Bond (aka the damaged Bond you get pre-New Light when playing Warlock): "A shattered Bond marks a broken promise." and it is honestly one of the more interesting Class 'traditions' in my opinion.

**_“For some of us, Ghaul did more than just take our Light and break our spirit. He left us with scars that will never heal, even long after the Red War becomes but a faded memory and a story told by veteran Guardians to the young.”_ ** \- Dallas-13.

* * *

_ It seemed like an eternity since Dallas-13, leader of the Foxtrot Movement, had stopped to relax. _

_ To be fair, it had probably been the same for most Guardians since the City was built, and even more so of late with the Red War and everything. The enemies of humanity were a constant threat that needed to be kept in check; there was simply no time to stop. There were lulls where one could sometimes take time for themselves, but those were few and far between. True peace was still a long way off yet. _

_ But you had to take what you could get sometimes, and Dallas was doing just that. _

_ She transmatted her entire armour off, even her undersuit, opting to dress herself in a simple pair of ragged pants. She had discovered a quiet spot by a man-made waterfall the day before, and she was determined to take advantage of it. Taking off her Vex leg prosthetic, the Exo sat cross-legged by the side of the falls and shut her eyes, taking in the sounds of the water and the City itself. Ikora had often recommended in the past that she try meditation, but the Exo had long dismissed it as a thing for Warlocks. Now that she was doing it, however, Dallas had to admit that maybe the Warlock Vanguard had been onto something. _

_ She sat in peace for what seemed like an age, completely relaxed for the first time in… well, what felt like all her lives, truth be told. The troubles of the world seemed to fade away all at once. Even the noises of the City seemed muted after a while. So blissfully unaware was Dallas, she didn’t hear the approach of another until they spoke. _

_ “Shoot, my bad! I didn’t realise that this spot was… occupied.” _

_ The Hunter’s instincts kicked in then, reaching for a throwing knife that wasn’t there and attempting to rise to her feet. Or, rather, foot; Dallas had forgotten she’d removed her prosthetic earlier, and promptly found herself on her back, staring up at the Awoken Warlock who had startled her. _

_ “Shit, Iz.” Dallas let out once she was certain she hadn’t died from shock and been rezzed again. She wasn’t sure if Exos could die of heart attacks, but dying of any cause while half naked in the middle of the City was hardly a good way to go, even for a Guardian. “What the hell.” _

_ The other woman’s glowing green eyes had gone wide, she noticed. As she did, they immediately darted away from her to look in the opposite direction, almost in embarrassment. Dallas pushed herself into a sitting position, taking stock of her situation. _

_ She was still topless. Right. Not that there was much in the way of… ‘parts’ to be seen, her being an Exo and all. But one couldn’t undo thousands of years of biological and social evolution overnight. Dallas rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. _

_ “You shouldn’t sneak up on a Hunter, y’know.” She warned the Warlock, only half-serious. “Good way to lose your fingers.” _

_ She supposed this would be the part where she’d put her armour back on and save her companion from further embarrassment, but Dallas just couldn’t find a reason to do so. Normally, she wouldn’t be caught dead exposing herself this way, but she knew Ysabeau wouldn’t try anything untoward against her. They trusted each other far too much for that. _

_ “I see you somehow found my quiet spot.” The Warlock surmised out loud, still refusing to look Dallas’ way. “You’re lucky I don’t mind sharing.” _

_ “If I was lucky,” Dallas retorted back, “then I wouldn’t have been caught out like that. Then again, I suppose it could have been by someone other than you.” Her good eye regarded Ysabeau carefully, before her voice dipped, “You can look, you know.” _

_ The Warlock did not. “Are you going to cover up, at least?” _

_ Dallas shook her head. If she could smile mischievously, she would. “Wasn’t planning on it, at least not for a little while yet. It’s not like anyone else knows about this place, do they?” _

_ Ysabeau frowned, but did not answer. By the time she eventually glanced the Hunter’s way, Dallas had shuffled across the floor to grab her prosthetic leg and was in the process of putting it on. _

_ “Let me help with that.”  _

_ The Warlock was quick to stride across, and was soon knelt at Dallas’ side, fixing the prosthetic in place for the Exo. Her swift hand movements only stopped when the cool black and red metal of the Hunter’s hands curled around her own. Ysabeau gave her a questioning look. _

_ “Thanks,” was the only word that left Dallas’ mouth. _

_ “No problem.”  _

_ Ysabeau pulled back, getting to her feet, before offering a hand to help the other Guardian up. Dallas took it gratefully, and allowed the Warlock to haul her to her feet. When she didn’t let go, the Hunter tilted her head at the other woman in confusion. _

_ “I’m good, Iz.” She prompted quietly. “You can let go.” _

_ The sudden warmth of lips against her metal face caught Dallas off-guard momentarily, her eyes winking shut. After a moment, she began to lean into the kiss, her strong, unyielding arms snaking around Ysabeau’s waist to pull her in further. But the moment was fleeting, both women soon pulling back: one for air, the other for distance. _

_ “We can’t do this, Iz.” Dallas held the Warlock half an arm’s length away, her good eye staring at the other Guardian sadly. _

_ “The hell we can’t.” Ysabeau looked offended by the statement, the brighter glow from her eyes almost making her seem fierce. “We’re Guardians, Dal.” _

_ “And that’s precisely the problem!” Hunter gripped Warlock tighter. “Once, that meant something, but regardless of how we now see ourselves, people still look up to us. Or they start painting a target on our back. We can’t do this.  _ **_I_ ** _ can’t do this.” _

_ Dallas gently pushed Ysabeau back, attempting to walk away, but the latter lightly seized the former’s forearm, tugging her back. Unexpectedly, the Warlock wrapped her up in a hug. _

_ “I’m sorry.” She apologised profusely. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.” _

_ “I’m bad luck, Ysabeau. It’s in my name. I lose everyone I get close to. Whole fireteams I’d worked with when the City fell, refugees during the Red War… Cayde…” _

_ “You haven’t lost me. Or Dias.” Ysabeau released Dallas from their embrace, holding the Hunter by both shoulders and gazing directly into her eyes. “And nor will you. I swear on my Bond.” _

_ Were it anyone else, Dallas might not have believed them. But the Hunter knew that Warlocks didn’t make promises lightly, especially Bond-promises. To do so without any intention of keeping it was the ultimate insult, like taking a Hunter’s cloak and never finishing their business or, worse still, burning it. So when Ysabeau swore on her Bond, Dallas knew she meant it. _

_ “I’ll shatter your Bond myself if you even think about going back on that.” The threat was half-serious. _

_ “I hope you never have to, but I wouldn’t want anyone else doing so if such and event were to happen.” _

_ It was Dallas who leaned in first for the next kiss, except it was hard to actually kiss when one had an entirely metal face, so Ysabeau ended up doing most of the work. The intent and sentiment were both there, though. _

_ “Will you come with me,” the Hunter eventually pulled back from the kiss, pressing her cool metal forehead to the Warlock’s soft, warm one, “when we track down Sov?” _

_ “Of course.” One of Ysabeau’s hands cupped the side of the Exo’s face, the other rested on her exposed waist. “I offered before, didn’t I? But, before that, let me show you somewhere better than here to relax. Hold on tight.” _

_ Dallas did just that, snaking her arms around the other woman as she drew on the power of the Light. Suddenly, the Hunter felt weightless, and it took her a moment to realise they were both now floating in midair. It was a power of Warlocks that she was jealous of, being able to fly, but freerunning buildings and making death defying leaps as Hunters so often did came with its own sense of freedom. Still, experiencing the power of flight like this was pleasant enough, even if she would never be able to achieve it by herself. _

_ “This place,” Dallas ventured as they soared over the City skyline, “is it another one of your secret quiet spots you’ve never told me about?” _

_ The Warlock smiled, but there was also a twinkle in her glowing eyes. “Something like that.” _

_ It was indeed something like that. And when the Exo Hunter awoke in time to the rising sun the following day in a warm bed with an Awoken Warlock embracing her from behind, Dallas knew she had made the right choice in asking for Ysabeau’s support. And that the other woman was right. _

_ This was more relaxing. _


	5. The Crow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallas-13 and Ysabeau track down their quarry to Io.

**_“The Traveler alone chooses who is worthy of the Light. It is not for us to judge who qualifies or who doesn’t. After all, who’s to say we weren’t tyrants and killers before we were Risen?”_ ** \- Dallas-13.

* * *

_ She took her ship - Cayde’s old ship, repainted to suit her better - to Io. Ysabeau followed behind her in her own ship. It had been a long time coming, but they’d finally tracked Crow down.  _

_ It made a sort of sense why he would go to Io; all Guardians were attracted to the last place the Traveler touched at some point in their lives, more so when they were newly Risen. Dallas remembered experiencing the pull herself clearly, even now. Coming back after so long was strange, but this had to end today. _

_ The Exo Hunter steered her ship gently into orbit with one hand, her other pressing buttons and touchscreens in order to plot a trajectory down to the surface of the volcanic Jovian moon. Once the blip that was her partner’s ship settled into orbit somewhere behind her own on the ship’s radar, Dallas shifted the throttle forwards, starting the long descent down to Io’s surface. At around a few hundred metres above the ground, she put her ship into autopilot, rising from her seat to prepare her gear. _

_ “Maintain altitude. Search for suitable high ground where we can safely transmat down.” Dallas told her Ghost, Dias, as she gave her weapons the once over. “We don’t need any surprises on this trip.” _

_ “Understood.” The dark grey and red gyroscopic-looking Ghost appeared in a shower of Light, hovering near the helm. “Should I relay to Leon to tell Ysabeau to do the same?” _

_ “Iz is her own woman.” Dallas shook her head, putting on her raven-visage helmet and pulling the hood of her cloak over it. “She has her own way of approaching things. That being said… tell them not to wander off too far.” _

_ Dias’ central eye nodded, and Dallas left him to it, ignoring his radio chatter in favour of making sure her quiver was stocked full of arrows. She didn’t plan on running into trouble before meeting up with her quarry, but since the Red War, parts of Io’s surface had become a mess in terms of hazards. Remnants of the Red Legion, Taken and Vex were all too keen to ambush the unwary. It wouldn’t hurt to be overprepared, just in case. _

_ “Ready for transmat, Di.” The Hunter grabbed her combat bow, before turning to face her Ghost. “We clear to go?” _

_ “Yes. Establishing a transmat zone.” Dias relayed back to her, hovering closer. “Oh, and Ysabeau wishes you luck.” _

_ “Of course she does.” If Dallas could smile she would but, being an Exo, she had to settle for a chuckle instead. “Let’s go.” _

_ “Transmatting, on my mark. Three, two…” _

_ The air in the ship shimmered, and then suddenly Dallas was atop a damaged Vex structure surrounded by sulfur-stained rocks below. Her single eye scanned the landscape around her, searching for any threats. She found none. _

_ “Where was Crow’s last reported sighting?” _

_ “In a cave system near the Pyramidion, about five kilometres south-southeast of our current position.” Dias answered, hovering on her blind left side. “Ysabeau and Leon have transmitted down about a kilometre north of us. I’ve marked down both on your tracker.” _

_ Dallas held out her right hand, and Dias dematerialised into it, before she slid down the sulfurous rock that the Vex structure was embedded into. The terrain on Io was some of the roughest in the Solar System, but she was a Hunter. She would manage. _

_ What seemed like an eternity (and several destroyed Vex later), Dallas finally reached the navpoint of her target’s last known sighting. A number of already destroyed Vex Goblins littered the area. It seemed like they were on the right track. _

_ “It looks like we aren’t the only ones after Crow.” Dallas whispered out loud, gently rolling over a Goblin with her prosthetic foot. _

_ “Or maybe the Vex are the ones being hunted.” Dias theorised through their neural link. “Just look at the amount of dead Vex here.” _

_ Dallas looked up, then blinked in surprise. Her Ghost was right. Their metal husks were literally everywhere. It made her reconsider why Crow had come to Io at all. There were better places for Vex components than here, like Mercury or Nessus. _

_ “We should keep moving.” Her Ghost advised quietly. _

_ Dallas agreed, following the trail of destruction laid out before her. Lingering here would only make them a target, and there were much more powerful things on Io besides the Vex. The amount of destruction increased to a point the longer she followed the trail, before dropping off entirely just outside the entrance to a cave. It wasn’t clear why until the Taken rifts started opening around them. _

_ “Contact!” Dallas called out, mainly for Ysabeau’s benefit over the radio, as she nocked an arrow in her bow and drew back in anticipation. “Taken!” _

_ Luckily, the Warlock was nearby. “I see them.” _

_ Dallas loosed an arrow at the first Taken to drop down, the explosive laden projectile hitting home into a corrupted Psion before it could split into two copies of itself. The explosive head of the arrow detonated shortly after, taking a few more Taken Psions with it. A rain of arrows from the sky soon joined the Hunter’s deadly shots and before long, the Taken had been dealt with. _

_ “Figures the Taken would be here, too.” Ysabeau gently floated down next to Dallas, her own Ghost, Leon, hovering beside her. “Those damn creatures really hate anything to do with the Light, don’t they?” _

_ “And the Vex, too.” Dallas observed off-handedly. “Notice how their bodies just dropped in number? If I had to guess, they started fighting each other, and Crow slipped away into the cave here.” _

_ “Wonder why.” Ysabeau pondered out loud, her eyes following her Ghost as he floated off towards the cave entrance, scanning the area. “Judging by the amount of destroyed Vex around here, he seems more than capable of fighting through all of them. Unless he had more pressing matters?” _

_ Dallas had her own theories, but before she could voice them, Leon called them both over, having apparently found something of some importance. Both Guardians wandered over to see what the Ghost had found, and found him hovering over a small, semi-dried puddle of blood. _

_ “It looks as if Crow was wounded.” Leon told them both. “And fairly badly, too. There is more blood just inside the cave entrance.” _

_ “Why didn’t his Ghost heal him?” Dallas asked, tilting her head in confusion. “And what was he wounded by?” _

_ “I don’t know.” Leon shook from side to side, imitating someone shaking their head. “Perhaps there wasn’t time to. Or maybe it was the nature of his wounds. But then, why endure that? Would be far easier just to kill yourself so you can be rezzed again.” _

_ “Perhaps Crow’s Ghost was destroyed, or separated from him?” Ysabeau theorised quietly. _

_ Leon pointed towards the cave. “The answers to our questions lie at the end of this blood trail.” _

_ Dallas entered the cave first, Dias appearing a little ways in to act as a flashlight for her as she picked her way over rocks and squeezed through narrow gaps. As the rocks gradually turned into Vex structures and the walls opened up, she nocked an arrow into her bow, just in case. Even wounded, a Guardian was dangerous, not to mention anything else that might be lurking down here. _

_ “Probably best if one of us goes high once this opens up a little more.” Dallas advised Ysabeau over the radio. “I don’t want to get ambushed down here.” _

_ “Agreed.” The Warlock replied. “I’ll shadow you from the upper ledges once the ceiling is high enough for me to fit on them.” _

_ They pushed further into the cave, now turning into some sort of Vex super-structure. The blood trail became more and more pronounced the further they moved in. They couldn’t have been that far behind now, judging by how fresh the splatters of red liquid were. The familiar sounds of a Shadowshot being loosed soon confirmed their target was nearby. _

_ Fitting that Crow would be able to reach for the Void Light, Dallas thought. Not many Hunters could. She herself preferred Arc, sometimes Solar to mix things up, but even now found it difficult to tap into her Nightstalker abilities. That Crow could - and seemed to be very proficient at it, given the amount of explosions she could hear - didn’t surprise Dallas in the least. _

_ Finally, the explosions stopped and before long, the Vex came for her. She swapped her bow in favour of Corax, a shotgun given to her by Hawthorne during the Red War that she had later modified, expecting close quarters. The rush of murderous robots stood no chance as Dallas pressed forward. Only an ominous rumble off to her right made the Hunter stop for a moment. _

_ “Damn it.” Ysabeau cursed over the comms. _

_ “Are you okay, Iz?” Dallas asked, concerned. “That didn’t sound good.” _

_ “I’m fine, but the Vex boxed me into a tunnel by triggering a cave-in.” Her partner explained, frustration evident in her voice. “I’ll try and find my way back to you, but you’re going to have to press forward without my support for a little while.” _

_ “Understood. Dallas out.” _

_ The Hunter continued moving forward, picking her way through the Vex maze. It wasn’t long before her enhanced hearing picked up something else. It sounded like a voice, crying out in the distance. _

_ “Help! Please, anybody?” It called out. It sounded like a young child, nothing like how Crow had sounded when he was Uldren Sov. Could a Guardian sound different than they did in the past? _

_ Surprisingly, Dias appeared, his central optic flaring wide in surprise. “I know that voice. But that can’t be…” _

_ A Ghost with a shell that reminded Dallas of the architecture of the Dreaming City suddenly danced into view, cutting her own off from whatever he was about to say. It scanned this way and that frantically for a moment, before spotting the pair and immediately flying across to them, clearly frightened. _

_ “Another Guardian! Thank goodness!” The newcomer chirped in relief, bobbing in place in time with his speech. “I didn’t think I’d ever find help down here!” _

_ “Pulled Pork?” Dias addressed the other Ghost, confused. “I haven’t seen you in decades. What in the Light are you doing down here?” _

_ “Dias?” The smaller Ghost circled him, still bobbing a little. “You have a Guardian now, too? That means you can help! Mine got into a bit of bother with some Vex on the surface. I tried causing a distraction so he could run into this cave, but the Taken showed up and hurt him before we could escape. Now those horrible machines have him trapped in some kind of cage down here and I can’t get him out!” _

_ Dallas glanced at her Ghost. He had told her stories about Pulled Pork before, how they had encountered each other many times in their hunt for their respective Guardians, but he hadn’t heard from him since finding her. It hardly seemed right that this friendly, earnest Ghost had resurrected a murderer. _

_ “Don’t worry, Pulled Pork. We’ll get him out of there.” Dias assured him, before turning to his Guardian. “Right, Dallas?” _

_ “Of course.” She answered, trying to sound convincing, but the words felt wrong in her mouth. If Pulled Pork knew why they were really there, he would have ran half a mile from them by now. “Can you lead us to him?” _

_ “Yes!” Pulled Pork bobbed in affirmation. “But… those Vex guys are kind of scary.” _

_ “Here…” Dallas motioned to open one of the pouches on her belt, then held out her left hand. “You’ll be safe in here.” _

_ The small Ghost floated eagerly to her hand, resting gently in the Exo’s palm. She was fully aware of the ease with which she could crush him with her fingers right now. All it would take was a little force against the joints of his shell… But Dallas couldn’t bring herself to do it, no matter what she thought of his Guardian. Pulled Pork deserved better. She carefully slipped him into the pouch, gathering up her own Ghost after, who disappeared inside her. _

_ “Which way?” She asked Pulled Pork quietly. _

_ “Straight ahead! Then, down!” He supplied earnestly. _

_ Dallas strode forward, clutching Corax tightly. She suddenly felt nervous, almost sick even. Months of searching, and her final revenge would soon be complete. She just hoped that it didn’t come down to hurting Pulled Pork in order to get her way. Perhaps she could convince him not to resurrect Crow after she had killed him. Perhaps…- _

_ “It’s a left down here.” Pulled Pork informed her next, interrupting her thoughts. _

_ The change in direction brought about a change in scenery. The passage Dallas was in opened up into an immensely huge space. A few Harpies, Goblins and a Minotaur still defended the area, but it seemed like the vast majority had been destroyed by the Guardian suspended in some kind of Vex forcefield in the centre of the vast room. _

_ The Hunter crouched down, silently swapping to her bow. A few well placed shots later, and the Vex were no more, and Dallas cautiously approached the cage. Uldren - Crow - looked worse for wear, a serious wound plaguing his left hand side just above his hip. His eyes were closed, and he didn’t appear to be conscious. Dallas almost called out to him using his past name, but Pulled Pork zipped out of her pouch before the words could form on her mouth. _

_ “Crow? Crow!” The small Ghost bobbed around his Guardian frantically. “I came back! I got help!” _

_ His blazing orange eyes snapped open then, darting first to look at Pulled Pork, then at the Exo woman who was supposedly here to save him. _

_ “You found another Guardian that was actually willing to help?” He asked. To Dallas, he sounded weary, like a person who had been on the run for far too long and was done with it. He looked down at her, wary. “If you are truly here to help, Guardian, then find some way to get me out of this cage. Pulled Pork can’t heal my injuries until you do, and this wound is taking its toll on me.” _

_ Dallas nodded, unable to bring herself to say anything. What could she say to the man that she was about to kill, the man who’d murdered Cayde in a past life? _

_ “If I had to wager, I’d bet a good amount of Glimmer that there was a hidden conflux we could hack into nearby.” Dias informed her over their neural link. “It shouldn’t be too far away from here.” _

_ She found the conflux easily enough once she began moving, and Dias quickly made short work of hacking into it in order to destroy the cage surrounding Crow. He dropped to the ground with an audible ‘umph’ and Pulled Pork immediately set to work healing his wounds. Dallas approached, sliding Corax onto her back. _

_ “Ah.” Crow beathed, flexing his fingers out in front of him. “You have my thanks, Guardian. I feared I might be stuck down here forever.” _

_ “Can we get out of here, now?” Pulled Pork asked, hovering anxiously near his Guardian. _

_ “I think that would be wise.” He held out his hand to his Ghost, who was more than happy to disappear within him. He then looked towards Dallas. “Lead the way.” _

_ “Do you have any weapons?” She asked him quietly. _

_ “I have my Light. That will be eno-” Crow cut himself off suddenly, his glowing eyes going wide in alarm. “Look out!” _

_ Dallas whirled around, drawing the Ace of Spades on the massive Vex Mind that dropped into the room seemingly from out of nowhere. Before she could fire the hand cannon, however, the Mind fired a series of purple coloured projectiles at them both. The resulting explosions sent the Guardians flying back and knocked Dallas’ weapon from her grasp. The fall back to the ground after sailing through the air almost knocked the Exo unconscious, and by the time she could think to stand once again, the Mind had boxed her in some kind of shield, similar to the cage Crow had been sealed into. Charging at it to try and free herself only resulted in pain. _

_ “You will not touch her!” She heard Uldren - or rather, Crow - shout, the sounds of the Ace of Spades firing filling the air. He must have picked it up after the Mind had fired upon them. “Let her go this instant, you foul monsters!” _

_ It was a long fight, but eventually the Mind was nothing more than a pile of scrap, indistinguishable from the rest of its already destroyed Vex brethren. The shield around Dallas flicked out, and she collapsed on to her hands and knees, shaking her head. Crow and his Ghost loomed over her, the Hunter offering a hand, and she took it, allowing him to haul her to her feet. _

_ “I believe this is yours.” He flipped the Ace of Spades in his hand so he was holding the hand cannon by its barrel and offered it to Dallas, grip first. _

_ But she shook her head. “Technically, it’s yours. The previous owner was quite particular who the Ace of Spades went to.” _

_ The former Prince of the Reef eyed the weapon up, uncertain. “The Ace of Spades? The gun that killed the legendary Awoken warlord in the Reef? The gun he used to kill a Guardian?” _

_ Dallas gave Crow a wild look from behind her helmet. “Where’d you hear that story?” _

_ “A Fallen back on Earth told me it. She mistook me for the warlord and told me that’s why other Guardians tended to shun or even outright try to kill me.” He explained to her. “But what if I really was that warlord?” _

_ A silence hung in the air. Dallas knew she had a decision to make. She came here wanting to kill him, but it was clear that Uldren, in his new life as Crow, had already suffered enough. Perhaps Mithrax was right; the Traveler chose who was worthy of the Light for a reason, and what right did she have to question that? What if she herself was some terrible murderer in the past? She didn’t feel like she was, but how would she ever know? That version of her was long dead. Just like Uldren was dead. Killing Crow now would be like killing another man at this point. _

_ “You’re not.” The Hunter eventually answered after much deliberation. “Not anymore.” _

_ Crow’s shoulders fell, as did his face. He looked almost defeated. _

_ “I’m… sorry.” He breathed out slowly. _

_ “I don't accept it.” Dallas shook her head. Then, realising how that sounded, added, “You’re not him. He’s dead. I made certain.” _

_ “Seeing me must still hurt.” Crow pointed out solemnly, before attempting to hand Dallas back the Ace of Spades again. “I cannot accept this. Please, take it back.” _

_ Before Dallas could refuse the weapon back and explain about Cayde’s will, an arrow came slicing through the air from the dark towards Crow. In a split second, she pushed the other Hunter out of the way, and there was a sharp pain as it pierced straight through her cloak and embedded itself into her back. The force of being hit sent Dallas falling flat on her face, cracking the left side of her helmet. _

_ “Damn it. Another Guardian must’ve tracked me here!” Crow cursed, flipping the Ace around in his hand and taking aim at where the arrow had come from. _

_ “Wait!” Dallas called out. “Don’t shoot!” _

_ But the other Guardian was already firing, his shots wild as he struggled with the hand cannon’s recoil. Thankfully, it seemed like all of his bullets were missing anyway, and he eventually gave up in favour of helping Dallas out instead, who was still struggling on the floor. _

_ “They must be repositioning. We have to move.” Crow hauled her to her feet effortlessly. _

_ But Dallas dismissed him with a wave for her hand. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” _

_ “Says the one with an arrow literally sticking out of her. Why did you tell me not to fire?” _

_ “I didn’t come alone.” Dallas tried to explain, but fell back to the ground mid-explanation. The arrow had lodged itself in a bad place, messing with the circuits that allowed her to control her legs. “Please, I’ll explain everything afterwards. Just let me talk to her.” _

_ Crow raised an eyebrow at her, tilting his head. _

_ “If you can get her to stop attacking, fine. But if she shoots again, I will defend myself.” He warned. _

_ Dallas sighed, before putting two fingers to the left side of her head. “Iz, stand down. We’re done here.” _

_ “You sure about that, Dal?” Ysabeau’s voice was level, but the Hunter could sense the frustration hovering just beneath the surface. “Because Sov is still walking and I have another line of sight on his Ghost if you aren’t going to interrupt this time.” _

_ “No. We’re not doing this.” Dallas hissed back over the comms. “Plenty of other Guardians are going to try or already have. It’s time to let the dead rest.” _

_ Silence filled the comms., the kind of silence where the other party was surprised and didn’t know what to say. After a moment, Dallas heard Ysabeau breathe, “You’ve… changed Dal.” _

_ “I know.” She answered the other woman wearily. “We all have.” _

_ “Well, if you’re sure… I’ll be down with you in a moment. That shot of mine looked like it hit you hard.” _

_ Dallas just about managed a chuckle. “It did. But I wouldn’t have it any other way, even if it does hurt like hell right now.” _

_ She cut the radio off, testing her legs. No dice. The right one kept fritzing out, and the left refused to move at all. There was no chance of her standing with the arrow still embedded in her back, and Dias couldn’t heal her since it wasn’t a bullet wound with an exit. So Dallas settled for looking up at Crow and Pulled Pork, who were both giving her odd looks in return.  _

_ Well.... the former was, at any rate. It was hard to tell with the latter’s constant bobbing in place. _

_ “What?” She tilted her head at the other Hunter. _

_ “Are you always this casual when you’re wounded?” He asked. _

_ She guffawed at him. “Hah! I wish. Ugh, ow. Don’t make me laugh.” _

_ “I could remove it, if you want.” Crow offered. “But I have a feeling that would do more harm than good at this point.” _

_ “I’d rather keep as intact as possible for now, if you don’t mind.” Dallas waved a hand at him dismissively. “But, thanks for the offer. Maybe when my partner gets here, she can cast a Healing Rift on me which might dull the pain a little, and we can try it then?” _

_ “I could also just shoot you and your Ghost can revive you fully intact. Save your friend the trek down here. But… given what you’ve told me, that would probably look bad, no?” _

_ “Yeah. Maybe not a good first impression to make.” Dallas agreed. “Plus, the Vex could be lurking and shoot my Ghost or something. Guess we’ll just have to wait. And while we’re waiting… I suppose I owe you that explanation, don’t I?” _

_ “I figured you might tell me later, but I suppose now is as good a time as any, yes.” Crow came and sat next to her, allowing Pulled Pork to settle into his hand. _

_ “That Eliksni that told you about the Awoken warlord. What exactly did she say?” _

_ “Nothing much.” Crow shook his head. “Just that I looked like him and that he killed a Guardian with his own gun. That he sowed terror in the Reef before he was put down the same way he started his reign of tyranny: with the very gun he stole.” _

_ “That about sums it up.” Dallas hummed quietly, before launching into the story.  _

_ “An Awoken warlord lost his sister in a terrible war. In his grief, he denied her death and searched endlessly for any sign she was still alive. He built an alliance of cutthroats to aid him in his search, but his grief would turn to madness and obsession, and he started killing his own people.  _

_ His madness would corrupt his allies and twist them to his purpose, making him stronger, until one day an Awoken warrior and six Guardians decided to put the warlord and his allies down. He and his most devoted leaders, his Barons, were captured and sent to be caged up in the depths of a high security prison, never to see the light of day again. _

_ But the warlord’s followers staged a riot and freed his Barons, who broke the warlord out of confinement. The Awoken warrior, now their jailer, requested the help of the Guardian who led the original six, and the Guardian leader requested the help of a Guardian hero from the Last City.  _

_ Three warriors entered the prison to stop the break-out. Only two emerged. The leader of the six Guardians who had originally imprisoned the warlord was dead, and the warlord and his Barons were free to sow terror across the Reef, starting with the Tangled Shore. _

_ But the remaining Guardian and the Awoken warrior never gave up, seeking justice for those that had suffered through the warlord’s tyranny, and for the fallen Guardian beloved by so many. One by one, the Barons were defeated, until they finally confronted the warlord himself. _

_ Two warriors took aim. Only one fired. And the warlord was no more.” _

_ Crow’s eyes were unblinking as he listened intently to the Exo Hunter’s story. Only when she finished, did he close his eyes, then ask, “And what became of the two warriors? The Awoken, and the Guardian?” _

_ “The Awoken? She returned back to her home, to bring leadership to a broken people. And the Guardian? She… tried to do the same, I suppose. But the recent events of her life had left her a shell of the woman she once was. Until now.” _

_ Dallas reached up for her hood, pulling it down, before tapping the side of her bird-like helmet, allowing it to transmat away. Her battle-scarred face regarded the former Prince of the Reef wearily, perhaps even with a hint of sorrow. _

_ “I killed the warlord. The Barons. And I would do so again if I had to, or so I thought.” She confessed, staring down at her hands. “I didn’t come here to rescue you. I came here to kill you, or rather the man you were. But now that I’m here, I see how pointless that would be. You’re not him, and by the Light, I hope you never will be. You’re better.” _

_ Crow remained silent for a good while, unsure of what to say. By the time he did, Pulled Pork had already spoken up for him. _

_ “You’re the first Guardian that’s ever given us a chance.” His little Ghost orbited slowly around Dallas. “We won’t forget that.” _

_ “No, we won’t.” Crow dipped his head, once again attempting to offer the Ace of Spades back. “This gun… I can’t…” _

_ “Its previous owner said in his will that he wanted it to go to whoever killed him.” _

_ “And that’s not me. By your own admission, that man is dead.” _

_ Dallas motioned to open her mouth, only to close it again immediately. As much as she hated to admit it, Crow was right. To say otherwise would make her entire speech redundant and expose her as a hypocrite. So, she merely accepted the offered hand cannon. _

_ “I suppose you’re right.” Dallas looked away from the other Hunter, staring out into the gloom of the Vex structure they were in. “What will you do after this?” _

_ “What I’ve always done. Stay out here in the wilds. I can’t exactly go anywhere else. Half the people in your City would sooner kill me on sight than let me wander its streets freely.” _

_ She had to admit, that was a good point. But still, being alone with the whole world against you was hardly a way of life, especially one as long as a Guardian’s. “Perhaps you can work with me. And you wouldn’t even have to come to the City.” _

_ Crow leaned in, curious. “What do you do?” _

_ “My people and I help keep the wilds safe by doing the bounties others can’t, or don’t want to do. If it sounds impossible, we’ll try and do it anyway.” _

_ “... I’ll consider it.” _

_ Silence fell between them, just as the metal, stag-like horns of Ysabeau’s helmet came into view at long last. As she approached, Crow rose, backing away from Dallas to give the Warlock more space to work. Ysabeau’s hands fell immediately to her partner’s back. _

_ “This is embedded pretty deep. I can cast a rift and try and get it out, but I feel like it would just be easier to shoot you.” There was a beat, before she added. “Again.” _

_ “And waste perfectly good ammo?” Dallas chuckled, though it sounded a little staticky and laboured. _

_ “I swear your stubbornness will be the end of you.” Ysabeau shook her head with a sigh, before looking at Crow. “You sticking around?” _

_ “I can, unless you don’t want me here.” _

_ “Make yourself useful and hold Dal still.” The Warlock instructed bluntly. “Even with a Healing Rift, I can’t promise this isn’t going to be painful.” _

_ The Awoken Hunter simply nodded, whispering something to his Ghost, after which he floated a short distance away, keeping a lookout. Crow then crouched in front of Dallas, holding her by the shoulders, bracing her tightly against himself. _

_ “Alright, I’m going to cast the rift. Then I’m going to pull. Yell if you need me to let up.” _

_ “Do what you have to, Iz.” The Exo Hunter told her. “No pain, no gain, and all that.” _

_ The rift hummed into life around them, bathing them in healing, almost relaxing, Light. Dallas felt Ysabeau’s hand wrap around the shaft of the arrow and slowly begin to pull, and she closed her eyes in pain. But she refused to cry out, even as the pain burned through her. She dreaded what it would be like without the Healing Rift. _

_ “Almost there.” Ysabeau warned quietly. _

_ There was a sudden and sharp tug, and Dallas let out a string of curses as the arrow was finally pulled free and she could feel both legs again. Immediately, Dias set about repairing and healing her, and it wasn’t long before she was able to stand again. Ysabeau wiggled the arrow at her in satisfaction. _

_ “You’re welcome.” _

_ “Yeah.” Dallas grunted, stretching out and transmatting her helmet back on. “Remind me never to jump in front of your bow ever again.” _

_ “Just be thankful I don’t use explosive arrowheads like you do.” _

_ Dallas chuckled, pulling her hood back up, before turning to Crow, who was now hovering a short distance away from them. To her, he seemed unsure, maybe even a little lost. This was probably awkward for him, she realised. _

_ “Are you coming with us, Crow?” She asked him gently, his new name flowing easier from her mouth now, drawing her shotgun, Corax. _

_ Both he and Ysabeau glanced at her in surprise as she posed the question. The former was quick to collect himself enough for reply, though. “I’ll accompany you both out of here, yes. But I’m staying on Io. Something is stirring here, I can feel it. Something big enough to disturb the Vex and send the Taken into a frenzy.” _

_ “We should probably get out of here before they decide to be disturbed some more then, huh?” Ysabeau suggested, readying her bow. _

_ Both Hunters nodded in agreement, and all three started to make their way out of the area before the Vex could recover. The Taken were once more ready to greet them at the cave’s entrance, but with three of them now, they stood little chance. They regrouped near an abandoned supply cache, where Crow secured himself a new weapon. Before long, it was time for them to part ways. _

_ “Good luck, Crow.” Dallas told the other Hunter, and meant it. _

_ “You too.” He dipped his head respectfully. “Both of you. And… thank you.” _

_ Hunter and Warlock watched as he walked away, disappearing into the crags of volcanic sulphur. _

_ “You’re really going to let him go?” Ysabeau’s question filled the void that the silence brought. _

_ “Yes.” Dallas nodded, still staring in the direction Crow had left in. “The Traveler alone chooses who is worthy of the Light. It is not for us to judge who qualifies and who doesn’t. After all, who’s to say we weren’t killers and tyrants before we were Risen? Light be damned, some of us were that even after we were Risen, and were still given another chance! If we killed everyone who had murdered in their previous life, there probably wouldn’t be any Guardians left. Certainly not enough to defend the City, at any rate. There’s barely enough of us now.” _

_ Dallas tapped something on her wrist, and in the distance her ship began to fly towards them, low and fast. _

_ “What are you going to do now then, if you’re not going to pursue vengeance any longer?” Ysabeau tilted her head at the Hunter. _

_ “Go back to the City and do something I should have done a long time ago.” Dallas finally turned to her fellow Guardian. “The Hunters have been without a leader for far too long. And though I might not see eye to eye with the Vanguard, the City needs unity now more than ever. Or, at the very least, the illusion of it.” _

_ “But we need you out in the field.” The Warlock protested. _

_ Dallas rested a hand on her partner’s shoulder. “And you’ll have me, when I can. But I fear Crow is right. Something is stirring here, and we need to be prepared for it. Under the Vanguard, I can send the Foxtrots where we are needed most. Please, Iz. I have to do this. No other Hunter will.” _

_ Ysabeau stared down and off to the side for a moment. The Warlock in her knew that this was the most logical, sensible thing to do, but the emotional part of her couldn’t bear the thought of not being at Dallas’ side. Or… not as often as she had been of late, anyway. _

_ Eventually, logic won out, and she met her leader’s gaze once more. “... Okay. I’ll keep our people in line. Don’t you worry about that side of things.” _

_ The hand on her shoulder squeezed tighter. “Be careful out in the field, Iz. If you feel the storm coming, get out ahead of it wherever possible. This isn’t something any of us are going to be able to weather alone.” _

_ “Agreed. You should be careful, too.” _

_ Dallas pressed the tip of her beaked helmet to the centre of Ysabeau’s, before pulling back and disappearing into the light of her ship’s transmat beam, leaving the Warlock all alone. She gazed up at the sky, watching the Hunter’s ship leave the moon, then looked out across the vast volcanic landscape of Io. _

_ Something huge was looming out there in the unknown, she could feel it. Something dark, something terrifying. It pulled at the residual darkness that lingered inside her, like the Traveler faintly pulled at her light side. Ysabeau wondered if it was the same for all Awoken. _

_ Perhaps that’s what had drawn Crow here, the Warlocked mused. She had to find him again, even if she wasn’t keen on the idea of working with him. So she set off after him, mindful of the coming storm. _

_ And if she didn’t get out of it in time, hopefully she wouldn’t have to endure it alone. _


End file.
